comme la couleur de vos lèvres
by arkangel221
Summary: Ron receives a note late at night to come to the pitch. Upon arriving he meets his heats desire. Could this be some sort of trick? Prequel to kissable lips.
1. Chapter 1

This is a prequel to the ficlet I posted called 'Kissable lips' and don't worry the second chapter has Malfoy in it. It's a comin'! Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and I only own the general Idea for the plot.   


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"Check,"   
"..."   
"Check,"   
"..."   
"Check,"   
"..."   
"Checkmate. I win." Harry growled and looked up from the chessboard as he started putting away his pieces, "I hate you... you know that right?" He asked, slamming his white queen into the chess box which gave him a crude gesture. "Yes Harry and I hate you too" I said, a small smile playing on my lips as I removed my own pieces from the board with a bit more dignity. He shook his head forcefully, "No I'm really serious," I dropped the last three pawns, all of which gave a cry of indignation, into the black holding cell, and said, "So am I."  
  
I couldn't help myself; I burst out laughing at the look of childish rage on his face. Lips pouting and nose scrunched, glasses falling halfway down; what else would anyone do in this predicament? "Stop laughing!" he huffed, arms crossed. Just like him. Malfoy crosses his arms just like that; he huffs just like that. I sighed, goddamn that sodding Malfoy and his ability to pop up in anything I see. But just as soon as the thought had come, it had vanished; mostly because Harry had uncrossed his arms. And it was his turn to sigh, "Why don't you ever let me win; just once?"  
  
"I tried," I say, folding the compactable chessboard my mother had gotten me for my birthday and shoving it into the box. "Yeah, well, try harder." He stated, as he stood and reached his hands above his head, stretching out his arms and legs. He was quite attractive if you ask me; with the fire light glinting off his black hair in just the right places, and the robes that clung to his Quidditch honed body as he stood... I looked away quickly and thanked Merlin that I could excuse the light tint to my face from coming from the fire by which I sat.  
  
"Listen," he said an airy tone to his voice, "I don't really hate you. I was just mad that I lost again." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and smiled, "I know. And I was just being sarcastic when I said I hated you too."  
  
"Good, now that that's cleared up I'm going to bed."  
  
I looked at my watch and suddenly realized that it was nearly eleven; and with a groan I turned and looked at the coffee table that was sitting by the sofa. It was absolutely covered in charms homework (I still don't see why the stupid teachers here call it homework, I mean we're not home!). Groaning again I stared up at Harry, "I'll be there in a minute I've got to finish this or I'll have detention with Filch again." I said; God that Flitwick could give the worst sodding detentions; even worse then Snape if he really went for it! Harry just shook his head in exasperation. "Like I said before, you should've finished before we started playing."  
  
"Oh, it's only two or three lines," I said standing from the floor and glowering at the coffee table, "I'll just rewrite something I already wrote." Harry rolled his eyes and headed towards the dorms, mumbling something about stupid redheads and how he wished they'd get their act together.  
  
Flopping down on the sofa, I checked my watch again. And in big red numbers it proclaimed 11:05 right on the dot. 'Well,' I thought, 'this shouldn't take more then fifteen minutes. Not very long.' I unfurled the parchment and dipped my quill into the bottle of emerald ink, and set about working.  
  
It was just about 11:20 when I finally got up to the dorms. Ten minutes writing the end of my essay and five more minutes packing everything up. The sound of Neville's snores assaulted me as I entered the room. I still didn't know how I could sleep through all that noise. Yawning I pulled off my shoes and socks, sitting on my four poster bed, the next thing that came off was my shirt. Yet again yawning, I decided that I was just too damned tired to undress fully, and pulled myself up and onto my bed. I burrowed my face into the pillow and was out before I even knew what the hell I was doing.  
  
My well deserved revere from reality was short lived however, as a soft and constant taping was heard on the window. Intent on investigating this annoying disturbance, I flung open my curtains on my bed and glared at the window; only to see the ever exuberant Pig flying in circles near the window and slamming into it every so often. 'Damnable bird!' I raged in my head as I crossed the room to the window, 'doesn't it know any better then to deliver mail at this time of night?!' keeping my fury as quiet as possible as I ranked open the glass to allow the insane owl, hooting and flying feathers in all, inside the room.  
  
The ruddy bird shoot into the dorm like one of those muggle cannon-things Hermione had told me about once. I was wondering, does an owl the size of your hand slamming into your head hurt the same as a cannonball in the gut, or did it hurt more? I don't rightly know, but the sodding pigmy owl thought it was pretty damn funny (can owls laugh?) that I was stumbling around the dorm room stubbing my toes on anything that was solid, and clutching my forehead where he had slammed into it. When I finally got my bearings, I launched myself at the satanic animal, and wrapped my hands around its scrawny little body before it had the chance to fly away.  
  
The poor thing was only saved by the only part of my brain that I ignore for most of the day. 'Ronald!' it screamed. 'Don't kill it! If you do you'll have to use Errol again! At least Pig gets it here and doesn't pass out in between!' "You're a lucky, lucky bird Pig..." I muttered releasing my grip, allowing the thing to breath. Pig twittered quietly but thankfully, and shoved his leg at me. Ripping the letter from him I walked over to the window and threw him out and watched as he dropped twenty feet then shot off to the right; towards the owlery. 


	2. Chapter 2

I flopped back down on my bed and groaned. I didn't really care if the rest of the guys were awake because of my 'little' ruckus; I was too damned tired to care. Having pig assault me in the middle of the night didn't help things any. I didn't want to open the letter, I wanted to go back to sleep; having loads of potions, transfiguration _and_ charms homework wasn't enough, but I also had had a Quidditch game that afternoon, where I got to beat the living shit out of that beautiful lust demon Malfoy; Ahhh… yes that was the highlight of my day. Closing my eyes I watched as he dove and spun; his arm just out of reach of the little snitch; the way his robe softly waved in the air as his head snapped back and forth looking for that little gold ball. Oh how I would to have a Draco's hand reach for a certain part of my lower anatomy like that…

OK! I snapped up and out of bed and was reaching for the letter… better keep my mind out of areas like that or I'll have a rather embarrassing problem. Unfurling it I blinked at the bluntness of the words and reread it at least three times before I was satisfied that that was all that it said; I even flipped it over just to find a black back.

_Weasley,_

_Come to the pitch,  
_

_No later then 12:00Pm.  
_

_Tonight!  
_

_Don't be late._

_Bad Faith Dragon_

The clock said 11:35 I didn't really know what I was doing, just that I had my shirt, shoes and Harry's invisibility cloak on, and was out of the door and on my way to the pitch, before he even had time to wake up. Now don't get me wrong, I was fully aware that what I was walking into could have been a trap. Being the friend of Harry Potter made sure that I could never be too careful when doing anything. 'What in the hell do you think your doing Ronald Weasley,' that little voice in my head berated. 'You could be walking in to you doom! And you couldn't care less couldn't you?' No, I decided, I couldn't. Maybe it was fatigue, or that funny tasting spotted dick I ate a dinner, but here I was, watching Flitch stumble drunkenly down second floor corridor, not caring if I got caught or not. Wait, I could get him fired for that! I'm so wicked, muahahaha. But that's later.

Mrs. Norris went trailing behind the pissed Filch, and into a class room where a loud caterwauling was heard. I really hoped that some students just got interrupted and Mrs. Norris' tail was stepped on. Continuing on my way I saw four out of the eight prefects patrolling the grand staircase, so what was I to do but hold my breath and hope that they didn't hear my footsteps? Eventually I opened the big ruddy doors so I could get outside.

Glancing at my watch I gasped. Oh God, 11:55! I was going to be late! Quidditch practice isn't only on brooms you know, oh no, half of that is running, and working out. And I guess that having such a long legs I wasn't so bad at that. I have the bragging rights of being the fastest runner on the Quidditch team, so that was a little useful to me now as I ran across the Hogwarts grounds toward the pitch.

Clutching Harry's cloak around my body, I had no wand, no ability to call for help if I needed it; and no reasonable excuse for being out so late if I WAS caught. Think about that when it's time to go to bed, I thought. Just as my lungs began to feel as though someone had just put muggle mustard gas inside them, I saw the arch of the Quidditch pitch. And then I remembered that there was a reason that I wore the same jumper every time I played in or watched a Quidditch game. There was a nail that stuck out about a half an inch in the right side of the arch. It didn't matter how I tried to stay away from it I was always pushed into it and it ripped my sodding clothes!

I removed the invisibility cloak just before I entered the arch; not only did I want my anonymous note sender to see me; I also didn't want to rip the cloak. And I particularly didn't want Harry to kill me for doing said action; even if he is really scary hot when he's mad. Hanging the liquid like fabric on the nail, I walked inside the pitch.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry I left such a cliffy there folks; I didn't mean to do it I really didn't! So for my faithful reviewer (notice how it was singular!) I will finish this damn fic in less then three chapters! Yay! Go me! I would've had this up earlier but something was going funky with , or was it only me, huuummmmm…

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Professor Lupin must be howling somewhere, I decided; the moon was full – and everything was illuminated by its soft slivery-bluish hue. I rolled my eyes at my semi romantic thoughts and wrapped my arms around myself. The moon was out, ok fine, it was still cold and I was only smart enough to put on a flimsy cotton tee-shirt that I had gotten from gorge. "Hey, you had better get out here and kill me quick. I damned cold." No answer. Great. Walking farther in to the stadium, I felt my heart beat quicken as I listened to the groans and whimpers of the magically reinforced wood. Yes the pitch was a wonderful place during the day, but… at night… well; I'll just tell you now that that is a place of nightmares.

So what do you think I did when I heard my name being called like something straight from a muggle horror flick? I jumped of course; who wouldn't? Whirling around I saw _him_… arms crossed as he lent up against the very same arch that I had come through. A soft voice floated towards me as I tried to calm my heart. "You're late Weasley, never could be on time could you?" oh god _no_… not him; anyone but him! I was going to have a heart attack by the end of that night I just knew it, every time I got my heart to calm down I got scared shitless, or have to do physical exercise; or now, endorphins and hormones running through my blood from lust. I was not happy. But he was, that happy little smirk painted beautifully across his Anglican mug;

"What...What are _you_ doing here Malfoy?" I asked trying to pull off nonchalant… I don't think it worked. Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm supposed to be here, you poor doush." Doush? Wasn't that short for doushbag, a _muggle_ saying? My poor, poor lust demon; it had to be a slip of the tongue, he would never said something muggle willingly… would he? "Well get lost… I'm waiting for someone. Wait, how did you know I was late?" he just shook his head and push off from the wall, "Merlin's beard, Weasley," Ahhh… a good wizarding saying, "You are gorgeous… but _so thick_ sometimes."

"How dar… huh?" I was stunned. I was Gor... Gorgeous… what the hell kind of game _was_ this. "Oh come on Weasley, who do you think would call you out here, to this poorly made, creepy old pitch at midnight; Especially someone with the name Bad Faith _Dragon_?"

"Well sure as bloody hell not you!"

He sort of just looked at each me for awhile, then he got this glint in his eye and began walking slowly towards me; I began backing up; an almost tentative expression on my face. "So dumb," he muttered, still stalking at me, "so poor, and _so bea-u-ti-ful._" That was the second time he said it. I should have shouted at the stars my thanks; I was finally getting what I wanted! The objects of my affections, calling me, a Weasley, long limbed; bid nosed; red headed, **_Weasley _**beautiful! This was wicked; to say the least.

Then I felt something against my back. A goal hoop. Bloody brilliant. Looking down I saw him, just standing there, almost on top of me, stupid smirk still on his features. Oh how I would have loved to lean down just then and have my way with his lovely mouth. But I did what I was best at; nothing. I stood like an imbecile, letting his gray eyes eat up my uncertain visage. "Wha…What are you playing at Malfoy?" I said, I sounded intelligent if I do say so myself. He rolled his eyes again, he seems to be good that. "_Really Weasley_!" he said, "do you realize that every time you glance at me, I know? That every time you think about me,_ I know? I know, _Weasley that you seem to think that my Quidditch robes are quite flattering, but… I would have to agree." I could feel the metal of the hoops under my palms. This had to be some sort of a trick, I mean lust demon or not this was a _Malfoy_! Son of Lucius Malfoy; Deatheater extraordinaire! This was not something I could've taken lightly.

"But you Weasley, you are just something exquisite. Everything you are and do has a passion. Like… like the color red…" I pushed back up against the pole harder, I wanted to _leave_… _NOW_! I didn't want to hear the bloody clichéd hair analogy; I wanted to get away from this torture. Because that was what this had become; torture. Somehow… I realized that somehow he had figured out that I had a stupid damnable schoolboy crush on him and decided that he was going to tease me about it. Wouldn't an announcement to the great hall be a better choice?

I felt a hand on my cheek and glanced down sharply. "…just like the color of your lips."

"Huh?"

"Your passion Weasley, it's just like the color of your lips." Now that was_ defiantly_ was not what I was expecting. His own lips parted slightly. Oh god, tempt me no more! "Just… so… kissable…" my jaw went slack as I felt Draco's thumb run across my bottom lip; I was trembling. Then suddenly I could feel his breath on my face, and I didn't know how he had gotten up here or had I gotten down there? It wasn't of consequence. I could see his striking gray eyes half lidded with want, and I couldn't take it any more. "Just so damned _Kissable…_" I had to get out of there that instant.

My body was the equivalent of a _Firebolttm_ as I pushed around Malfoy away from me. I wanted to kiss him I really did, but if I did that I was admitting to my self that this might not be real. It _had_ to be real. I couldn't take it if it was a joke, and when I kissed him, _oh god that would be good_, Slytherins would pour out from every crevice on the pitch just to laugh at me. Well that would just be too much. I think I would have a nervous breakdown. 'Forgive me…' I begged as I ran the cowards mile straight towards the arch, grabbed Harry's cloak and was gone.

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(Insert evil laugh here) yes my pretties… only one more chapter to go! That is unless I get some feed back on whether or not you guys out there want me to write and post the part before Ron writes in his journal (not diary folks, journal).

Note to readers: this chapter will probably be rewritten. I didn't like how the ending came out.

Hey nicole-purple thanks for the spell change I feel so embarrassed!

Oh and thanks to I Heart DM 11, I've never had a repeat reader! Thanks for all the nice nice reviews and such. (If you haven't figured out that was you I was talking about above)


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the long wait, I hit a major writer's block and couldn't continue; then I had some _major_ family issues I had to attend to, not to mention that I started school again! But I'm over with the writers block because I decided to change the POV and now everything is ok again!

Ok ladies and gents. I get to have a bit of a rant before we get started today. Ok I love reviews, don't get me wrong I love them just as much as the next writer, but PLEASE, be sensible when you review. Telling me that I'm doing a good job is wonderful, and so is telling me about spelling errors or plot holes that I should fix. But come on people, leaving one word reviews is like going swimming with no water. I mean what in the hell am I supposed to do with 'ick!'? Ick Ron thinks Harry and Malfoy are hot? Ick Draco was going to kiss Ron? Ick what! Let's be a little more specific here please. I don't mean to yell, but I thought I should express my feelings.

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As Ron pounded up the dormitory steps he knew that he was going to die; one of three very plausible ways; 1. He was going to get killed by Harry in the morning for taking his invisibility cloak; 2. He was going to die of embarrassment in the morning when he walked into great hall for breakfast the next morning. Malfoy telling everyone in Slytherin what had happened on the pitch not 15 minutes ago. He could just imagine the pealing laughter as he walked into the room, everyone stopping what they were doing just to point and laugh; it was a nauseating thought. But the one that Ron was betting on was number 3, dieing of hyperventilation.

He hated that lightheaded feeling when it didn't matter how slow or how fast you took a breath, you just couldn't stop getting oxygen to your brain. He hated the feeling that your brain was going to come dribbling out your ears if you didn't do something to breath right again. And then there was an opening of a brown sack being pushed to his lips. The lips that had almost kissed…. Oh god! A gentle hand was pressing against the back of his head while the other was holding the bag steady at his mouth. "Hey, hey, Ron, calm down it's not as bad as all that. Slowly… slowly… that's it…" The hand was now petting his hair, smoothing it in a very comforting way that Ron couldn't express his gratitude for. And as his vision cleared and he was able to take the sack into his own hands and glace at the roommate that had 'saved his life'. Ron eyes went wide and he brought the sack to his lips again. No it couldn't be; but there he was, in all of his klutzy glory, was Neville Longbottom smiling and rubbing at his arm like he had told and embarrassing lie.

Several minutes passed, and then finally Neville was the first to speak, "I know why you went out tonight." Ron was dumbstruck, how could he have known; was there a reason that Neville was taking Divinations with he and Harry? As if reading his mind, Neville held out the small note that Draco had written, "you don't hide you evidence very well." Ron blushed and looked down at the floor. There was a soft 'come on', and Neville motioned toward his bed, Ron's eyebrow rose. "Well, you want to talk or don't you?" he asked as he slipped on top of the mattress and pulled a pillow into his grasp. Ron said nothing but pulled himself miserablely to his feet and walked around the room to Nevilles four poster and pulled himself on to it.

Ron sighed as Neville closed the hangings of his bed, and cast a privacy charm (he'd been practicing you know). Nothing was said for what seemed like minutes on end, it was only interrupted when Neville reached out and let his fingertips make a spidery crawl down Ron's knee; he let out a very girlish shriek. "Merlin's beard, Neville! Give a guy a warning before you do that. What were you trying to do, make me pee my pants?"

"Boy crazy I see." Neville said with a small grin. "Oh very funny, ha ha ha." Ron's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Sorry," Neville said, "I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Neither of the boys looked at each other after that, the tension that hung in the air returned tenfold. Suddenly Ron couldn't take it anymore; everything that had happened that night was finally weighing him down; he could feel tears prick at his eyes… 'Oh god…' a sad look crossed Neville's face as he saw the emotional rollercoaster that was throwing Ron for just about every loop in the book. And before he could take it back Neville opened his arms and took Ron into then once again that night and did his best to comfort him as Ron began to cry his eyes out.

Ron _was_ grateful that it was Neville that was holding him; any of the other boys in the dorm would have told him to suck it up or to get his _Flaming Fairy_ arse out his _straight_ bed. But Neville was notorious for being the more tolerant one in the dorm. If any one needed to talk to somebody about something, Neville was the one to go to not because he had no one to tell, but because he would always have some little tidbit of wisdom to share that would put your mind at ease, and let you sleep easier that night. He was one of Gryffindors best kept secrets.

"Was it real Neville?" Ron sniffed, burying his face in Nevilles shoulder. "I wanted it to be so much, but I just couldn't've taken it if he wasn't!" Neville made small motions on Ron's back, "I don't know if he was serious, but I hope he was." 'For his sake' he added as an afterthought. "Damn it! Why does shit like this always have to happen to me?" Ron balled a fist and struck Neville's chest, but he just took it and smiled a comforting smile at him. "I mean I do what I'm supposed to! I don't hex people for no good reason, I do what my mum tells me to, I even do my homework; ok maybe not voluntarily but I still get it done! Why can't I be a normal person; why do I have to be the fairy that falls for the enemy prince?!"

"I don't know, I just don't know."

Ron pushed away from Neville and scrubbed at his eyes and stared at him. "What no pearls of wisdom today?" he asked ruefully. Neville shook his head "no not today, but I will tell you something else."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"He stares at you as much as you stare at him." Ron blushed, "am I that noticeable?" Neville smiled and shook his head, "no not really, I'm just used to watching people more then the average person."

A feeling of rage flitted trough Ron at that moment. How dare Neville watch his Draco! He had never wanted to commit a murder more at any other time then that one second after Neville had said those words. His eyebrows knitted together and his lips pursed. "You watch Draco?" he asked, examining Nevilles eyes light with realization at what he just said. "Oh no! Not like that! No offence Ron but I'm straight." Ron huffed and scrubbed at his nose again "well, good then. Make sure it stays that way." Neville rolled his eyes but smiled again at the flustered Ron. "No seriously Ron, I always face the Slytherin table when I'm eating and he's just about always looking at you or glaring at someone who's bugging him. In potions, at the pitch, in the halls when your not looking or fighting with him. All I have to say is that he's a damned good actor."

By this time Ron's eyes where dimmed over in thought; 'could I have been wrong? Was he taking that big of a chance at the pitch tonight as I was by coming out there? Could he REALLY like ME; a WEASLY?' Ron closed his eyes and sighed having long ago ceased crying. Neville thought it best to let him stew for awhile, but not for too long. 'What would he see in me,' Ron thought again, 'I'm nothing but long legs, gangly arms and red hair? I'm not anything special, but… wait…'

"Neville…" He looked up at Ron, "you watch people a lot, right?"

"It's a sort of hobby."

"Do you watch me?" Neville blushed and looked away, "sometimes…"

"Please tell me, do… do I have passion?"

"Where did this come from?"

"Just answer me… Do I Have Passion?"

"Well, yeah, about Quidditch and about charms even though you hate the homework, you must have gotten that from your brothers. And you have a passion about you friends, you just seam to glow when you're with them." This time it was Rons turn to blush and he stuck his face in his hands. "Is it like the color of my lips?" Ron asked between his fingers. "Say what?"

"Is It Like The Color Of My Lips!"

"Whoa, now that's something I wouldn't know about!"

"Sorry."

"Now listen Ron, you wanted a little pearl of wisdom, so here it is. Don't screw around on love, she's a very fickle person and will not stay around forever for us mortals to make up our minds, and tell each other that we like them. Just do it and get it over with, and stop mooning over Malfoy like a girl!" Ron bristled, "he likes you and you obviously like him. So why not just get it over with? Put that passion of yours to use!"

And something struck Ron, Neville was right, Malfoy was right. He did have passion, but it was all focused on Draco at the moment and that was why he was doing so bad in his classes and why he had been distracted at Quidditch matches. "Your right Neville, I think I will tell him. And be damned what the world and everyone else thinks! It's not there place to tell me who I should and should not like or love…" Ron deflated for a moment, "but when should I tell him, I mean the only time we are even a semblance of alone is at double potions tomorrow, well I don't need to tell you the problem with that." Ron looked sour as Neville thought for a moment. "Why don't you skip lunch tomorrow and get their early, and if he watches you as much as I think he does, he might follow you out. And that way you won't vomit on him."

Ron looked horrified, "that only happened once! And it wasn't that bad!"

"Ron you barfed right on Hermione's skirt!"

"I got nervous," Ron grumbled. Neville tried to smile but a yawn got in the way noticing that he hadn't checked the time since they had sat on his bed Neville opened his bed curtains to look at his alarm. "Good god," he said "It's nearly three in the morning. I think we should get to bed some of us have a big day tomorrow."

"Yeah," Ron said yawning himself, "I think I will, thanks and good night Neville." Ron said as he piled off of Neville bed and across the room to his own. "Good night," Neville intoned, "Oh and Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Don't forget to write this down."

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Wow my longest chapter! I know that I said only one more chapter to go but this was getting pretty long and I was way over due on updating. So I hope you all forgive me, but I can only work on this on weekends that I don't have homework (being a returning senior can be a drag). But I still love all of you and think about how much you guys are grumbling that I haven't up dated in what two, three months. Trust me I'm listing and thinking about all of you all the time!  
  
Oh and this chapter looks so much better with tabs... but I can't get the site to save them maybe its something i'm doing? if it is can someone tell me what to do?


	5. Chapter 5

Once again I don't own Harry potter, but just the main idea for this fic. I ask you, who in their right mind would have the balls to say that they were seriously the great goddess JK Rowling? I mean really!

By the way just so all those purists out there don't get in a big huff, I'm telling you now that I'm a purist, but I just didn't want to spend all that time trying to figure out what Ron's daily schedule was so I just made up my own. Besides, this is seventh year fic.

7:00 – 7:45................................................................................................... Breakfast

8:00 – 10:00...................................................................................................Charms

10:15 – 11:45.................................................................................................History

11:45 – 1:15....................................................................................................Lunch

1:30 – 3:00..................................................................................................... Transfigurations

3:15 – 4:15..................................................................................................... Potions

4:15 – 4:45..................................................................................................... Free Time

5:00 – 6:00..................................................................................................... Dinner

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I sighed and close my journal for the fifth time in about three minutes, and I still couldn't believe what I had written there. I had written things about my friends and myself that I hardly wanted to admit to; it was true… no one knows about me being bisexual. But now someone else was going to know. Be damned on him if this is a trap, it was about time that I told someone I was bisexual, so I guess this is also the day that I "come out."

I groaned and ran a hand through my hair, pulling it away I saw a few hairs sticking out between my fingers. I opened the book once more and then place the hairs carefully in the center of the last page next to the first flower my sister had given me from Hogwarts grounds. Sighing again, I just looked at the cover of my journal and thought about what was written for today. It was almost inconceivable, Draco Malfoy had tried to kiss me, I was going to tell him that I liked him… this was either going to very, very good or very bad. I had to think about this a while.

Bad side effects:

Harry hates me

The SCHOOL hates me

Gryffindor house make my life a living hell

Lucius tries to kill me

Good side effects:

DRACO MALFOY IS MY BOYFRIEND! WOOT!

I live happily ever after

Wow… can you say sap? Shaking my head I pushed the book back underneath my mattress where no one would look — well I guess Neville would, but I don't think he'd READ it — besides the house elves and they were working to hard to pay attention to a random book, moreover they would put it back where it belonged; that is, under the mattress. But I didn't care about that a the moment, I would rather bask in the thought that in this afternoon—because it was this afternoon, for it was after midnight before I even got to the pitch—I would either be the happiest I've been in a very long time or the most embarrassed person in history. Groaning again, I lie down and pulled the quilt over my body. I had once heard that sleep was good for a nervous soul; I was going to put that to the test. I was asleep in a few minutes the confrontation with my lust demon still in my thoughts and dreams.

I was awoken later by the sounds of Harry's screams… "Why in the bloody, bloody hell is my fathers cloak out!" 'Ooppps. I forgot to put it away.' I thought, but really was it necessary for him to yell so loud? I don't think the Hufflepuffs heard him. There was a shout from Dean to 'shut his bloody hole' and that he 'was worse then a Slytherin sometimes' and 'no one cares about his damn cloak anyway!' Peeking my head out of the curtains, I looked at Harry. Maybe I should tell him later? He was livid. Yes, definitely later… "It had to be someone in here! No one knows about it other then you guys!"

I cringed at the sound of his voice, I felt like I was going to be sick; my head hurt, every bone in my body felt like lead, and I just knew I was going to throw up today sooner or later. "Oh would you shut up Harry," I say as I climb out of bed, "you should be grateful you got it back at all, what with the way you're acting…" my voice was raspy in my own ears. Harry seemed to have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that morning; he shook the cloak at me. "Do you have something to do with this Ron?" he asked, eyes squinting evilly at me behind his round glasses. Oh bugger it… "Yes, it took the damned thing. I couldn't sleep so I plotted on you while you were asleep and took it to the pitch. I was going to bury it, but someone was already there and foiled my plan." I rubbed my hands like I saw one of those mad muggle scientists do in one of my fathers 'movies'. "One day… one day my plan will be complete… Muahaha!"

My plan had worked, Harry was so confused my random thoughts that he just shook his head, put the offending item away and left the dorm altogether. That is until there was a scream of 'Oh my god! Harry Potter in his pajamas! Get the camera!' he was back up with us in an instant.

I looked at Seamus; he looked at Neville; Neville the great guy that he was, tried not to look but he glanced at Dean anyway; and Dean sniggered over at me. Harry just blushed. Suddenly all the tension was gone from the room from the early morning fight, and we through ourselves at each other trying to keep upright, short gasps of air in between laughter and slamming younger years with flashing cameras out the dorm door. Minutes later, we sat with our backs against the door smiles and adrenaline of a good laugh still in our systems when Seamus said that we had better get ready for classes; that made everyone frown. I knew why everyone else didn't want to go to classes; it was mandatory that you didn't like class that is except for Hermione. Nevertheless, once Seamus had said those words, I suddenly felt sick again. But sill I pushed my self off the door and gathered my things for a shower.

Charms went alright. I got a good mark on my essay, but it had a message on the top in Flitwick's pointy scrawl. 'You rewrite yourself too much Ronald. Try to work on that.' I had barely gotten to look at the page before Hermione had snatched it out of my grasp. "Hey!" but the words had died on my lips; for one glance of Hermione's icy cold glare could kill even a frost giant. "You rewrote your self?" she asked. "Yes… yes I did, and I'm proud I did! I don't care!" Hermione only rolled her eyes and tossed the paper back at me. As if her one-hundred proves anything at all!

My next class, History – as usual – was two hours of pure boredom. Two hours of the history of troll freak show rebellions, goblin rebellions, and wizard union strikes. But one of the worst things about that class was that I had two hours, two whole hours to think… how I was going to act. Where was I going to touch him? Was I going to touch him? What would I say? Should I try suave or uncertain? Should I change my shirt or leave it the way it is? Would I be well or ill? Oh, god… suddenly I didn't feel so good; "Mr. Binns… Mr. Binns I don't feel so good. Can I go to the bathroom?"

"Huh? Oh yes, yes, of course, of course, of course."

Neville gave me a sympathetic eye as I walked out of the room, holding my gut. As soon as I had closed the classroom door I was running down the corridor, in to the lavatory and was worshiping the porcelain god within seconds. I knelt there, thinking why in the hell had I ever come to the decision to tell Draco I liked him (hell, I thought he was the best thing since Quidditch, don't ask me why), when I heard a noise. The soft clops of shoes on tile. I was scared; please, please, I thought, please don't let anyone find me like this; Prostrate before a toilet, face covered in bits of vomit. Nevertheless, my prayers weren't answered, "Ron," It was Harry's voice, "Ron are you alright. You've been acting pretty weird since last night and I was wondering if there was something I could do to help?" I groaned and leaned farther into the bowl, my dry heave had lessened as I slowly came back into my self, "No Harry, I don't think…" I heaved again, "That there anything you could do for me." Unless you want to tell Draco that I think he has the sexiest body on earth; I thought. "Well then why are you throwing up? Do you have the flu or something?"

"No I'm not sick," I heaved again, "I think it was something I," heave, "ate." I heard him lean against the stall I was in. "What! Something you ate; with a stomach like yours? You could eat a nuclear reactor and have nothing happen to you." He started laughing, and so did I even though I had no idea what a nuclear reactor was.

Soon I figured that if I was laughing I was done puking, so I flushed the toilet for the last time and opened the stall. "You're lucky, its lunch time and we don't have another class to get to." Harry said, still leaning on the stall wall. I gave a small rueful smile and walked towards the sinks, which clicked at me. 'Tut, tut, young man; Look at that hair.', 'You need to take better care of yourself.', and, 'you're pale as a sheet!' I just wanted them to shut up. Suddenly I remembered. "Ahhh shit! My bag!" I moaned. Harry chuckled behind me. "Don't worry so much, I got it for you when I left history."

"Don't worry so much? I should be telling you that." I smiled at him and took my wand, which he had taken out for me, some how sensing what I was planning to do. "Silencio!" and the mirrors incessant tutting suddenly ceased.

It was nice, that silence that enveloped me as I washed some of my remaining nerves away (not to mention the bit of stuff). After splashing cold water on my face then sloshing some around in my mouth to get the disgusting flavor out; I was ready to go, and I said so. "It's about time. I suspect Hermione is about to come looking for us." And Harry didn't know how true that statement was, for a few seconds after he had said this, Hermione burst into the room. Harry was aghast, "Hermione you can't come in here! This is the boy's bathroom!"

"Oh shut up!" she commanded, "you've been in the girls bathroom, I can go into the guy's bathroom." Harry obviously wanted to battle, "but that was under totally different circumstances!" she glared (The frost glare was back) and told him to, "shut up!" once again. Hermione had been in a bad temper for the last few days, I really needn't have to worry about what was wrong with her. It was the full moon after all, and Hermione always has her time of the month during the full moon. I've always said that it was a form of very tame lycanthropy. She goes from mild manner Hogwarts student one day then… BAM! Bitch on wheels the next. Lavender swears up and down that one night she shredded the hangings on her bed because she got one point off a paper. I told lavender that she would do that even if she were normal, and not to worry about it. Now if she had said that she was going to shave your hair off while you slept… well, that another story. Hermione was an absolute bitch when she was on the rag, but I knew how to handle her. I smiled. She, Well... swooned. Sometimes it's nice being the Ex.

"Come on Hermione leave the guy alone… I mean someone tried to steal his cloak last night. Be a little forgiving." I could tell she wanted to blurt with 'oh god not that old thing!' but instead she bit her bottom lip and sighed, "I'm sorry Harry I guess I lost my temper again. It's just these damned hormones. But it'll be over in a few days… right good thing, huh?" she smiled at us like nothing had happened and Harry and I glanced at each other, mouths agape. We had recently had a conversation about this very situation; we had decided that we hated it when she pulled this. Being the bitch queen then playing the I'm-hormonal,-so-you-have-to-forgive-me card. "It's ok Hermione," god I hated this, "we forgive you. It's only for a few days right?" please say yes! "Yeah I suspect only two or three." I wanted to dance! Hey! Fred had recently taught me a jig. "Well, we've spent enough time in a bathroom to last me for a while." Harry said, slinging his own bag over his shoulder, "I would like to get some lunch in the near future. You can't transfigure anything on an empty stomach."

I wanted to be normal and say 'yes let's go! I get first dibs on everything!' but that day was anything but normal. I was going to tell my best friends that I was bi-sexual, and that included any one who was in the hall at the time. So the rumor mill must go on. If I'm lucky the whole school will know by breakfast tomorrow morning; and I won't have to say it only once. Oh god and Draco, if I went down to the Great hall I was going to have to face him; him or the Slytherins. We were lucky, no classes with the Slytherins so far today. Think quick Ron! Find a way out of lunch! Make that brain zoom! "Oh you guys I still don't feel so good, I'm gonna go up to the tower and take a shower. Maybe that will help."

"But you already took one today." I glared at Harry; sometimes he can be so thick. "So I'm going to take another one."

"Oh." I rolled my eyes and walked towards the door. "If you're not feeling well, shouldn't you go to see Madam Pomfrey?" I sighed. "No Hermione, I think its just one of those twenty-four hour things, I'll see you in Trasfig." And I left.

I walked with my head down the entire way to the tower, hearing the sounds from the great hall as I went. My breakfast gone I was really hungry but every time I had a thought run through my head it somehow lead back to later today. I groaned (I seemed to groan a lot today). I ran a hand through my hair like I did last night, but this time came out with no hairs. I was so confused, what was I going to do. How was I going to tell Draco that I liked him, like (gulp) he liked me? My feet were shuffling as I mumbled the password to the FatLady, and drug myself inside the common room.

"You look like **_hell_** Ron," Was the first thing that I had heard. My head snapped up and who did I see but the ever faithful Neville Longbottom. Sitting in a wing backed chair; Ankle resting on his knee, hands gripped on the rests. He looked more like some mad criminal that was about to burst out into the cliché muahaha, than the loyal friend that he was. "Oh god, I **_feel_** like hell." I said, slouching down into a near by sofa. He just blinked at me and I realized that I was supposed to tell him what was going on. I told him about Charms to History then to the loo, my 'nervousness' (he only smiled at me and said, "Well at least you got to the loo this time." I wanted to smack him), and Harry and Hermione's and my conversation. I looked around the common room to check that no one was there. "What am I supposed to tell them Neville?" I hissed, "'hey Harry, Hermione, guess what? I'm Bi!' some how I don't think that would tide over well." 'Hehehe' I snapped my head over towards the stairwell that leads to the dorms. I could have sworn that I heard someone giggling; must have been my imagination. Neville brought me back to reality.

"Well," he was saying, "when I'm nervous about something, I just go straight for it. You know, don't beat around the bush and such." I nodded. "Yeah I think I'm gonna have to do that. Just get it out of the way, so I don't have to deal with it again."

"That would be the best thing."

"But that still doesn't tell me what to do about Draco…" I was getting depressed. 'Gasp!' now I know I heard something. "I'm sorry Ron, but that's something that you have to deal with on your own. I could think on that a thousand years and still not have all the right answers. Sometimes you just have to wing It." yawning, I agreed. For some stupid reason I was suddenly very tired, but I still had to change. I didn't want to approach that beautiful lust demon with this filthy shirt on. I hoped I had something presentable in my trunk. Standing, I thanked Neville for his advice and the advice last night, and said "I'm going to make myself presentable now." He nodded and said that he had to ask professor Spout about a plant he had found growing in a random corner of Greenhouse Three that he didn't believe belonged there, and hurried out the portrait hole. Having a little over a half an hour before transfigurations, I figured he should have enough time to ask a quick question and hurry back. I my self had taken the stairs to the dorm two at a time, until I was letting the warm shower spray cover my body and soak my hair. But something still was bothering me. Was I hallucinating or had I really heard some one giggle?

The shower was nice but putting on those clean clothes was even better. They weren't anything special; just a crisp white shirt with the Gryffindor crest, and a pair of black pants, the usual Hogwarts uniform. I cast a drying charm on my hair and hurried out of the tower. The signal for lunch to end sounded just as I walked out the portrait hole. I still had about fifteen minutes to walk to Transfigurations, a whole lot of time to do nothing. And then I heard it – "Fag." I stopped and glanced over my shoulder; there in the middle of the corridor, was a group of three or four Ravenclaws. I raised an eyebrow, "say what?"

"Your Ronald Weasley right?"

"Yeah."

"We heard from Padma Patil that you take it up the ass."

"**_HUH_**?!"

I could feel a blush coming on as I covered my face, oh god it was not supposed to happen this way, I was supposed to be the one to tell. I was just supposed to tell Harry and Hermione…well… **_and _**Draco. But how, how in the hell had these fourth years that I had never seen before figure my secret out? "Well," the leader said, "is it true?" I just ignored them, and pushed them out of my way, I didn't even have time to register that they said they heard this stunning news from the sister of a fellow Gryffindor. Bracing myself on the wall, stumbled out into the main corridor. It seemed like hundreds of People were whispering, then all at once, they stopped and I was cocooned in living breathing flesh. They were all asking me questions, "Was it true? Was I a fag?', 'who had I shagged?', 'gotten into potters pants yet?', 'how much do I go for?'. It was all a jumble of faces, bodies, and voices. Oh god I was going to hyperventilate again, I could feel it coming on.

Dear readers, I am going to tell you another one of my fears. You already know about my deathly fear of spiders. Well hears another one. I hate big crowds. You know the kinds that always have people jam packed together. Dear readers; I'm Closterphobic. That's why I hate the dungeons so much. Not a single window in the whole bloody place.

Suddenly I was startled out of my mind when a hand was on me. A strong hand, one that had its owner bite its nails to the quick, and had calluses from Quidditch. I don't know how I realized what the hand looked like or how it felt because it had a hold of me for the equivalent of about five or six seconds, as it pulled me out of the crowd and into a broom closet. I could still hear the crowd out side wondering where the hell I had gone to. I sighed in relief. I was grateful for the rescue but I still was taking no chances on getting jumped, that is until I heard the sound of a woman whimpering. You know that kind of sound between a sob and out right crying? There were two whispers of lumos, and I could suddenly see in the pitch black.

I covered my face again, and issued my own whimper cry. It was Harry, Hermione, and most amazingly, Lavender. The last people I wanted to talk to right now. Lavender was the first to speak. "OH GOD RON! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for it to happen this way! I only told Parvati, I swear! I didn't know she was going to tell her sister. Oh god! She should've known! Padmas the biggest gossip in Ravenclaw! Oh god, Oh god, Oh god, Oh god!" she then burst into out right tears; I could feel the tears pricking at my own eyes. Harry and Hermione were still silent as I asked my own questions. "But… But no one was in the common room…" Lavender hiccupped and scrubbed at her nose with a napkin that she probably stole from the great hall. "I was in the stairwell!" and she ruptured into tears again. "Stairs… you were the one who was giggling!" she nodded. I wanted to kill her, she knew well enough that everything that Parvati knows Padma was going to know soon enough; I mean they're twins and living with a pair of twins myself I can testify to that. But I thought that she felt bad enough already.

Harry then spoke for the first time, "It's all around Hogwarts. Everyone's talking about you. How you shag any one that will have you." he grumbled "That you'll do it for money." Hermione joined in "…they say that you don't care if its cock or crotch or ass… just that you get some." By now I was crying, not like Lavender mind you, just soft trickles of salt water coming down my face. Then the question that had been floating in the air since I was pulled into the closet was said. "Is it true Ron? Are you gay?" I shook my head. "No." Hermione nodded her head and smiled, "well thank god…" she turned to Lavender, "how could…" I interrupted her. "I'm bi-sexual…" I said softly, my head still down. The silence around us was deafening. That is, until the bell sounded to begin class. "We're late." I didn't care, and I said so. "I don't care; if McGonagall has heard about this, she'll under stand."

"You're right."

That was Hermione, "That's why were here, she told us to find you. We've got leave for this period." I didn't know what to say, I just sat there, staring at the floor. What was I going to do? Malfoy knows now, he has to know. Unless he's been living under a rock. But he obviously hasn't been living under a rock because he noticed me staring. Just like Neville noticed me… oh boy who else saw? My knees bent and I was crouching and clutching at my scalp, it felt like I was ripping the hair out. My eyes were wide and wild, my mind utter chaos. "I'm gonna die…" they were simple words but described my feelings exactly. "Oh god, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna _**die**_…" the same words kept coming from my mouth like a holy mantra, and my body of it's own accord was rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet.

–Smack!– I was suddenly flat on my arse holding my cheek. I wanted to ask what in the bloody hell that was for, but I wasn't stupid. "You stupid git!" Ok, maybe I was. "Pull yourself together! So the school knows your gay…" (Bi-sexual, I mumbled) "Who cares? Love who you love and be who you are. I'm tired of being in this closet, and you're out of it anyway. So lets go." I suddenly remembered why I loved Hermione; she made so much since sometimes. Besides she had reminded me of something I had said last night; 'be damned what the world and everyone else thinks! It's not there place to tell me who I should and should not like or love…' Yeah, she's right, I'm right, and be damned what they think.

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Ok that's it! No more chapter predictions. Every time I say one or two more chapters it ends up being three! So this fic is done when it done!

Oh and thanks for all the reviews, they've all been so nice! I love nice reviews! Espically ones that say what I'm doing good or bad (hint hint). any spelling or gramer mistakes would be nice too.


	6. Chapter 6

Who likes dark chocolate? Simi-sweet scene between Neville and Ron. Be warned. Everything in this fic that's not in English was translated by AltaVista Babel Fish Translation page so if it's wrong… I'm sorry… but if you know of a better one PLEASE tell me! Well here we go again…

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We left quietly making sure that there weren't any 'well wishers' around the corners as we headed for Gryffindor tower. When we got there, Lavender slowly followed us through the portrait hole and into the common room, where a few younger years that had a free period were huddled around the study table, decided to stop for a moment to stare at the humble procession. They didn't stare for too long. "Pillow biter." This time I was the one who had to drag Harry out of what promised to become a great melee. "Don't bother Harry," I said quietly, "it's not worth the trouble. Besides you'll just get a detention." He nodded, tight lipped, but still took out his wand and jinxed one of their books to start flying around their heads, flying low every once and a while to bite their ears and snap off hair. It was pretty funny… he really needed to teach me that one.

Lavender was a little skeptical when she first stepped into Harry and I's dorm. Like it was some sacred ground that females shouldn't walk on. Hermione almost pushed her on her face to get her to walk through the damn door. Me on the other hand shuffled over the threshold and wobbled to my bed where I though myself, face first, down on it. Grabbing a pillow I shoved it under my face and screamed for all I was worth. I couldn't help it, I was frustrated, scared, above all else, concerned. Concerned about me, Malfoy, Harry, what I was going to do if the guys wanted me kicked out of the dorm (I didn't think they would kick me out, Neville would talk some sense into them), and poor Ginny. Poor girl has to put up with people teasing her about having a fag for a brother; she was probably running for the hills. Either that or she was hexing them all with her Bat-Bogey Hex, nasty thing that it was.

Suddenly I could feel 3 pairs of eye sticking to the back of my neck. It is quite unnerving if you have never felt something like it. Rolling over I made a come and get it motion. "Well come on," I said, "I'm ready for it, (that was a ball face lie) tell me what a sick inclination I have. Tell me that my parents will kill me." I looked at Harry and Hermione. "Tell me that you never want to see me again. I'm a big man, I can handle it." Hermione leaned against one of the posts on Harry's bed where he had curled his legs around himself Indian style. I had the sudden urge to put one hand in the air palm up and say 'how'. She looked at Harry; her arms crossed over her chest and said, "I didn't know he knew the word 'inclination'." Harry shrugged, he was still staring at me as if he was trying to figure if his best friend was still there, or if the person sitting in front of him was a whole new person. There was a great hiccupping from across the room.

Lavender was sitting on Seamus' bed, trying not to drown herself in her own tears. I wasn't sure if I wanted her to drown, or if I'd rescue her out of her own sea like Alice in wonderland. Suddenly she began sobbing harder then ever, which made Hermione leave her place next to Harry and hurry over to her before she could hurt herself. Even as a PMSing bitch, Hermione still had that mothering instinct. But that left Harry and I to play out our own staring contest. Neither of us blinked for what seemed the longest time, it was like a desert on my eyeballs, I just had to blink. blink in that short time that action took me, I realized that he was suddenly talking to me. "Huh?"

"Damnit, Ron will you pay attention? This is important! Why in the hell didn't you ever tell us about this?" I scrunched my nose. "You sound like my parents." He was shocked. "And I never told you because it wasn't important." More shock. "I'm not dead Harry; I'm still the same Ron I have been since I was thirteen. I haven't come on to you have I? (No) Have I ever tried to jump you in your sleep? (No) I don't see what the problem is then."

By now the girls were listening. "The problem, Ron," he snarled, "is that you never told us. What about all those times when we went girl hunting on Hogsmead (SP?) weekend, you could have told me that you didn't want to go but you went anyway. Were we looking at two different sexes here Ron?" I was rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I couldn't believe this. "And what about all those Play Witches that you bought? Was that just for show?" he could have gone on but I just had to stop him. "Harry, I'm not gay! I'm bi. That's two different things, ok? Yes, I did want to go with you to Hogsmead, and not to go guy hunting, we were girl hunting and that's what I was doing. Looking at girls, not blokes! I went out with Hermione remember? It was only a few years ago, you couldn't have forgotten already, could you?" over in the corner Hermione and lavender were sniggering, they seemed to grasp the idea between Homosexual and Bi-sexual; Harry didn't. "And who owns those Play Witches now, huh Harry?" uh-oh more gossip for lavender, "I owned those for about two weeks, Two Weeks! Then you decided to take them off my hands. No I don't want them back, who knows what kind of… ahem, stuff is on them now…" Harry was blushing madly, serves the prick right. I scrubbed at my nose, "but that's ok. Porn doesn't do that much for me anyhow." That was the truth, I had never, never gotten an erection from looking at a naked person on paper; moving or no.

Harry was tracing the scar on his forehead, I didn't like that. That usually meant that either he was feeling (or seeing) Voldemort or was going to say something that blew our mind. He stopped tracing and was now glaring at me. "Have you ever looked at me in the shower?" I balked, damn he was blunt. "No."

"Have you ever had a crush on me?" I blushed, what was this, twenty questions? "Answer me Ron!"

"Yes damnit! Yes! What do you want me to say? It was only for two weeks! Two years ago! I was on rebound!" Hermione gasped. "I'm over it. I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself because of it; I don't need you telling me how wrong it was too." By this time Harry was pacing the floor, I was certain that he was trying to dig a ditch to put between us with his feet.

"Who is it?" I cocked an eyebrow. "Who is what?"

"Who are you crushing on now?" I was a simple question, but one that could tare my whole life apart, one; now that it came I didn't think I could answer. I was suddenly very grateful that Lavender had come with us. I was blinking back tears again, I seemed to be crying a lot lately, "you mean, you mean you don't know?" I look over in lavenders direction "Lavender," I whimpered, "I can't do it… will you..." she nodded and blew her nose into the napkin, then she looked strait into Harry's face and said, "Malfoy," Harry's face contorted, "he likes Draco Malfoy." I didn't hear what Harry thought about that because he was gone after that, he just walked out of the room, just **_gone_**. Not a single word. Not that he hated me, that I was wrong, or that I was sick, or that he was going to owl my parents. Just… walked away.

I didn't know it at the time but later Hermione told me, and Lavender backed her up, that I started to howl like a wounded animal when he left. As if someone had shot me right in the heart.

Hermione, lavender, and I didn't speak for the rest of the time we were in the dorm, and I was dreading going down to face the world. I realize now that it had been a stupid thought, thinking that I could just out myself in the hallways of Hogwarts; that I could control what things people said about me; I was ridiculous. How could I know what they were going to say, bloody hell, I couldn't even make my best mate listen to me. I was barely aware that Hermione was shushing me, rocking me, back and forth, back and forth. I was sobbing, screaming, clutching at her like a child. I didn't care that that my eyes were all puffy, that my face was just as red as my hair or that I was crying on my ex-girlfriend. I had only a few minutes left of transfigurations and I planed to use it to the best of my ability.

I made a great effort in those last ten minutes to compose myself, considering that I had (probably) just lost my best friend. Let my ex, whom is one of my best friends, find out that I had rebounded on my other best friend after I – excuse me, we – broke up, with each other. And one of the biggest gossips in Hogwarts was sitting here absorbing everything that happens, that's said, or well… you get the point. When the bell rang Hermione was, little helper that she was, was putting a simple spell on my eyes to make them return to normal in a quick hurry.

There was a great cacophony (bet they didn't know I knew that word too) outside the dorm door, then who else then the life saver himself, Neville Longbottom stumbled though the door. "Ron! You had better be quick before the guys get the torches and pitchforks. I tried to calm them down, but they wouldn't listen to me!" a cold hand gripped my heart. "Harry wasn't with them was he?" he looked puzzled for a moment. "No I didn't see him." I smiled and was almost instantly calm; Hermione and Lavender on the other hand, were not so quelled. "Well if they won't listen to you, then they had better listen to two women on PMS!" Lavender was PMSing? Wow, she handles it well. And both women proceeded to march out the door.

As I was walking out the door, I suddenly got a very odd urge, and a strange thought. I loved Neville, no not the kind of love I have for Draco, but the kind of love that special love for a family member or a best friend. I didn't care if Neville was strait; this was the only way I could express my gratitude at that moment. I reached out and took Neville's cheeks in my hands feeling the downy hairs against my thumbs as I stroked the skin. Tilting his face slowly as if giving him time to punch me and tell me to get the bloody hell away from him, I softly pressed my lips against his. Nothing special, nothing to remember, just a simple thank you kiss. If I do say so myself, it was very tender; Neville's eyes were wide as I pulled away, as if amazed that I had entertained the idea long enough to even go through with it. "Thank you…" I whispered, enveloping him in my arms, just as I was in his last night. "Thank you for everything Neville." He was squeezing me back. My larger frame picking his small body off the floor. "For just being you and listening to my stupid ramblings, for never telling anyone, and most of all, for letting me cry on you. You have go to be one of my best friends." I heard him gasp. "Thank you, for everything, and…" I couldn't hold it back any longer, "I love you Neville." His jaw was slack, "but what about…" I smiled. "Not that way you silly…" I lightly set him back on the floor and kissed his plump white cheek. "I've got to go, see you later if I'm not disemboweled." I ran out the door, down the steps, into the common room where people pointed accusing fingers at me, then out into the wilderness of Hogwarts.

It took me about five minutes to make my way down to the steps and down into the dungeons. I ran into peeves along the way, but I just kept running and flipped him off. He screeched and zoomed off like I really would bugger him. I mean really how idiotic can you get? How am I supposed to rape something that I can't touch? But he was the least of my problems. I guess that Crabbe and Goyle were more up on the rumor mill then Harry or Hermione. They decided that it was best to try to jump me before I got too far into the dungeons or able to get at Draco. "Gonna fuck us too weasel?" was their unoriginal taunt. I rolled my eyes whipped out my wand and jinxed them so their fists didn't want to leave a single spot on the wall, useful little thing Charlie had taught me that summer, and raced down the corridor.

I was almost at the potions room, when a hand came out of nowhere and pushed me up against the wall. I squirmed, kiss my arse, those bricks are cold! The hand had moved off my arm and was pushing on my chest, opening my eyes I couldn't believe it, Blaise Zabini had accosted me. Now I had no hostility with him, so what did he want? "So Weasley I hear that you have a thing for Draco." I squirmed again this time out of wanting freedom, and he was beginning to press **_really_** hard "Yeah, so who hasn't heard that?" He laughed, a dark baritone, it gave me the chills but at the same time excited me, damn me. He was suddenly only inches from me, his dark eyes capturing mine. There was something feral there that wanted me at the moment, I had a feeling that I was only an innocent passer by, and got caught up in Blaises inability to control his own libido. The stupid fool that he was. Then I suddenly realized that his mouth was centimeters away from mine. What was that stupid fool thinking? 'Let's go snog Ron Weasley, who cares if he doesn't want it. Who cares if the rumors aren't true?' I clutched my wand tighter in my hand and was about to shove it in his stomach and disembowel **_him_**. "Zabini what do you think you're doing?" he turned sharply to his right. Yes! I know that voice!

Draco had his arms crossed and was standing, there all supreme and sure like… I didn't know… it was just, well, **_sexy_**! "If you want to live another day Zabini, you'll get your hands off him." Blaise was off me in an instant, his hands in the air. "Sorry Draco, didn't know you already claimed him."

"Get lost." Draco hissed, jerking his head to the right, and Blaise was running like a blast ended skrewt was after him.

Draco walked up to me, and he **_smiled_**. "Well Weasley, you sure've done a trip on your self this time." I bristled, "I wasn't exactly my fault."

He nodded, "yes it was what's her name, a color or a flower or whatever."

"Lavender Brown."

"Yeah that's it."

"Were you serious last night?"

"Huh?" he had had his back to me, his head bowed in thought, pointer finger tracing the outline of his lips. He does that when he's thinking you know. This time I smile, "very eloquent." He grumbled and flipped me off. I reached out and grabbed his delicate wrist in my huge hands. To say the least he was shocked, I seem to be doing that a lot in the last two days. Shocking Neville, shocking Hermione, Lavender… Harry. Massaging his palm I opened his fingers one by one, and kissed each one right on the tip, it was a simple message. But profoundly moving, Draco seemed to like it. "I'll say it again, and again, and again until you answer me. Were you serious?" he was staring at his hand, enclosed in mine. His hand looked so simple, like chiasquro, the contrast between light and dark. Mine being so dark from work, sun, playing. Draco on the other hand was pale, never having to go outside; playing was beneath him, sun was something to be avoided at all coasts. "Yes. I was… about everything." I smiled, it felt like Hogwarts its self had been lifted off my chest, and I hadn't even been aware that I had felt like that.

Using my other hand I lifted Draco's chin, so he could look me in the eye. "Comme la couleur de mes lèvres?" his eyes widened as he answered a breathless "yes,"

"Didn't know I could speak French did you?" I was suddenly pushing him up against the wall, whispering things in his ear that I hadn't spoken to any one. "Beau, magnifique…" He was putty in my hands. I called him all the names he had called me last night, except one. "Draco, where did you learn the word 'doush'?" He shrugged lazily, "I heard some mud blood." I glared, "fine, muggle-born, use it, I thought it sounded funny, so I started using it."

"Do you know what it means?"

"No" I chuckled, "good"

"Why?"

"I don't know what it means either."

I realized directly after I said that moment we were carnally attacking each others mouths. As if the few moments before people came pouring down corridor for potions, would be our last, and in essence they would be. I didn't want it to end; I wanted to taste him forever, for the rest of my life. Wanted to feel his tongue on mine, my body pressed up against his like this. This desperate need for touch to just **_last_**. I didn't care what his last name was, what my last name was. Who his father worked for, who I worked for. At that moment it all had just stopped. Gone away. It was just me and him, gasping for breath, for one more grope of the tongue. Something that would show me, him, us that this wasn't going to end with a quick grope in the potions hall. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

I guess I wanted a fairy tail ending. One where me and him would run off together, elope you know, someplace where people didn't care that we were both men, or that he was a Malfoy and I a Weasley. Someplace that didn't know about the war, or about Deatheaters, or the Order of the Phoenix. At the very least one where we stood together, one where we told the rest of the world to go bugger themselves. But this was not how it was to be.

I parted from him the last time when I could hear students running down the stairs, not eagerly running to get to potions on time. "Well I guess this is good-bye then," I said, releasing his face from between my hands, his fell from my neck. He looked at me quizzically, "What are you talking about Weasley? I'm not done with you yet. I've only just begun."

H FIN H

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Oh yeah people look what I do for you. Parents looking over my shoulder, school in the morning, a make up test, a presentation, and I still stay up past midnight to get this done just for you!

I have a thought for another sequel but I don't know if I'll write it. I like it how it is.

And thanks to everyone who ever reviewed you guys made this possible with your support! (Wow that sounded like a Miss America pageant and PBS all at once!)

This is what the French is supposed to say:

"Comme la couleur de mes lèvres?": "Like the color of my lips?"

Beau, magnifique...: Beautiful, splendid...

(splendid was supposed to be gorgeous, but it didn't translate right, fuckin' Babel Fish! H shakes fist H)

And of course the title

comme la couleur de vos lèvres: like the color of your lips (as in speaking of Draco's first encounter with Ron on the pitch.)

See you people on the flip side!


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